Oh, Baby!
by SurlyCoach
Summary: Julie finds out her mom is pregnant.


**[JULIE]**

"So what's going on?" I ask.

I've seen my parents argue before, but when I walk in on them now in the hotel room after Dad's taken Panthers to state, the tension is totally off the charts. I've been with Matt. We were making out a little in the corner of the hotel lobby, behind a plastic tree. He hinted that his roomate isn't in the hotel room, and I really wanted to take him up on that hint, but I came back up here instead so I can be the dutiful daughter, even though _**Dad** _wants to make me leave Matt.

Dad looks at me and swallows. Mom catches his eye and I can see what she's saying without saying it. She's telling him not to say _anything_. But he says something anyway. "Nothin', Monkey Noodle. We were just havin'…it's nothin'."

I can't believe this evasive bullshit. Dad tried to keep the new job a secret from me at first too, and now they're clearly having a totally serious fight, and he wants to pretend it's not happening? I shake my head. "No. You can't. You can't just do this. You can't yell at each other and then tell me it's nothing."

Mom pats Dad's chest. He's clearly watching for her lead. It's amazing how often he does that. He bosses boys around the field, but a lot of the times, at home, he just waits for Mom's lead.

Mom sighs. The totally condescending sigh. The _how do I tell the child something she's too much a child to understand or appreciate_ sigh.

"What?" I ask.

Mom looks straight at me. "Jules, sweetie, you're going to have a little sister or brother."

"What?" I couldn't have heard that right.

"I'm pregnant."

I shake my head. Mom's almost forty. What is she talking about? They never mentioned trying for another kid. "You…how…I mean…did you plan…I had no idea you even wanted…I thought you …what?"

"We didn't think it was possible," Mom says. "We gave up years ago and assumed it couldn't happen so…we haven't been doing anything to prevent it from happening. Because we thought it couldn't."

I walk further into the room, sit down on the bed, and draw one foot up against my knee. "So this baby is unwanted."

"It's not unwanted," Dad says, his voice loud, like a command. "_He_ or _she_ is _not_ unwanted."

"Sorry, I didn't mean…I meant to say unplanned…" I shake my head again. "You're having a baby. For real?"

Mom comes and sits on the bed beside me. She puts a hand right next to my knee. "For real, Julie," she says softly. "And I know you're going to make an amazing big sister."

I snort. "Big sister. I'm old enough to be its mother." Dad makes a sort of strangled sound. I look up and see his face pale. "Well I _am_," I say, "Biologically. Don't worry, Dad. I'm not planning to run out and get knocked up anytime soon."

He looks down at the ground and puts his hands on his hips.

"So you're moving us to Austin. So the baby can grow up there," I say. And so I never see the love of my life again.

I'm awed by Dad's answer. "I'm willing to stay here. I think it's better for our family."

"Eric!" Mom hisses.

Dad bites down. Clearly he was stating something they hadn't finished discussing, something they hadn't agreed to. My parents have this way of presenting a united front. They talk in hushed whispers, or raised voices, in the privacy of their bedroom, and then they come to me together and issue their pronouncements, Dad usually standing firmly and silently, nodding sternly, Mom doing the talking. But Dad's overstepped just now. He's said something, apparently, Mom hasn't yet stamped with the seal of approval.

"Well I do, Tami! Julie wants to stay. You want to stay. It was one thing giving into your absurd idea to live apart when it was just us three adults. I mean, Julie said it herself. She's old enough to have a baby. But now we're talking about an _actual_ baby. An _actual_ baby. I'm not supposed to be there for that, Tami?"

Mom stands up from the bed. "I can't live with the guilt of making you give up your dream!"

"You're not making me! I'm choosing it! I told you. There are more important things than football!"

Like the baby. The baby. He'd stay in Dillon for the baby. Not for me. Not for his first daughter, his eldest daughter, his first baby. But he'd stay for _this_ baby, this thing, yet unborn, yet unnamed. He'd stay for _that_.

Mom raises her hand in frustration. "You say that now, but you will resent passing up this opportunity. You have worked and worked and worked for this for years. And I've worked right alongside you. And you're not going to toss all that work down the drain because I managed to get myself knocked up by accident!"

Dad's eyes grow wide. His pulls off his cap and throws it to the ground. He looks at Mom in disbelief. "I prayed for this every night for two years, Tami. That we could have another child. Every night for two years. You think I ever prayed that consistently for anything in my entire life? You think I prayed like that to be an assistant coach at TMU? Do you? And you wanted it too. I know it's been years since we talked about it. Since we've said a single word to each other about it. But I remember. I remember the prayers and the tears, yours and mine. And now…long after we gave up…suddenly… how the hell can you say what you just said? Like it's some…mistake. Some roadblock!"

I stand up straight from the bed. "I'm going to go stay with Lois in her hotel room tonight. I'm just," I shake my head vigorously. "I just do not need to be here for this."

"Julie," Mom calls.

"Let her go," Dad insists. Not that it matters. I'm already out of the room, the door slamming shut on the word _go_.

**[COACH TAYLOR]**

We talk for an hour after Julie leaves. The first twenty minutes there's some shouting. The next fifteen there are some apologies. The next ten there's some quiet tears of joy. And the last fifteen we talk quietly, hammering out a plan.

Somehow, Tami convinces me. Convinces me that I can handle it. That love conquers all, even distance. She's a strong woman. It's why I fell in love with her, why I leaned on her so hard over the years. She can handle it. And she's right. I have dreamed of this job. When Julie graduates, we'll be reunited for good. In the meantime, I'll be as involved as I possibly can. I'll come home as often as I can.

It's a gift, this baby. A precious gift, and we both recognize that. But I shouldn't take the timing as a sign that I'm supposed to give up the job that has also fallen, like a gift, in my lap.

I lie down on my side in the bed. She's convinced me. I've agreed. But I'm still scared.

I haven't lived without her sine we were twenty years old. Maybe she can handle the baby on her own, and her job, and Julie…maybe she can…but…what about me? Maybe _I'm _not as strong as she thinks I am. Maybe _she's_ made me strong, all these years.

She lies down on her back and looks up at the ceiling. I slide close, kiss her, and place a hand on her stomach. I bend and kiss it. "I can't wait to meet you," I whisper. I come back up to my wife's lips and kiss her tenderly. There's a tear escaping her left eye. I wipe it away with my thumb. "Happy tear?" I ask. She nods.

"I love you," I say. I don't know how she feels at the moment. Being pregnant and all. It's late at a night too. But I'm just honest. I say it. "I want to make love to you so badly right now."

She slides my jacket off me. We undressed quickly. She takes me in, fully and deeply. God I love the way she feels. How often will we be able to do this, once I'm in Austin? She moans my name and begs me to hold out, just a little longer, so I shut my eyes tight and start drawing play diagrams all over the blank green field of my mind. Still, that doesn't drown out her sighs, her whimpers…and oh God. I barely make it. We reach that peak together.

"I'm going to miss this," she admits when we're cuddled together afterwards. I'm still trying to catch my breath. She recovers so much faster than me. "But hey, you know I won't ever be turning you down when you _are_ home."

"Ever?" I ask. I'm skeptical, based on past history. I always want it more often than she does. Mainly because I want it three times a day.

She laughs. "As long as you're reasonable. And I'm not too nauseous. And we…find a comfortable position."

"I'm gonna hold you to that, baby," I say, lowering my lips to hers. "Baby," I repeat. "I got three babies in my life now."

**[TAMI TAYLOR]**

I dislodge myself from Eric, who's sprawled out on his back, sleeping. He's always been a reliable man, and one thing I can _always_ rely on him to do is to fall sound asleep within ten minutes after sex.

I smile because he looks so cute when he's sleeping, and because the sex was better than usual, a little hungry, but still tender.

Suddenly I wonder if I've made a mistake. He's offered to give up the job, to stay here, to keep the family together. Yet here I am, insisting on bringing another child into a family with an absent father. I haven't done this thing in fifteen years. All the parenting books have changed, and I'm not as young and energetic as I used to be.

But what can I do? Let him to give up his dream job? He's going to resent me for it one day. How could he not? I'd resent him. And I'm not going to make Julie leave her friends, her school, Matt. I'm not going to leave this good work I've begun as a counselor, not mid-school year like this, not until after the baby is born, and then I'll still be around, in Dillon, if anyone needs to chat.

It's okay. It's going to be okay.

I kiss his ear and he stirs. I lie back down and drape my leg over him and snuggle in. I can do this. I'm a fighter. I don't need him home to handle it. I don't need him to get up and draw out that emergency formula bottle for the one late night feeding I'm just too exhausted to handle. I don't need him to be a couple of miles away, at the school, so he can rush home at the drop of a hat if the baby needs to go to the ER. I don't need his warm, hard body, up against mine like this, every night. I don't need to wake up beside him every morning, to hear him roll over and whisper good morning in that deep, husky voice of his. I don't need any of that as much as he needs to chase this dream.

Like that Simon and Garfunkel sing, I am a rock. I am an island. And a rock handles the midnight feedings alone. And an island never regrets putting her foot down against her husband's judgment.

**[THE END]**


End file.
